


when the night comes crawling

by Grimwatch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bloodplay, Canon/Canon, Chill, Corruption Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Journey to the West AU, M/M, Mod Hex, Oni Genji Shimada, Sanzang Zenyatta, Yandere, Zen does not get eaten, request
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimwatch/pseuds/Grimwatch
Summary: Rumour has it that to dine on the flesh of a certain monk will grant you immortality.Genji has never been one to be so wasteful.





	when the night comes crawling

**Author's Note:**

> "You said that Canon/Canon is okay so could Hex maybe do some Oni Genji meeting a travelling Sanzang Zenyatta and deciding to kidnap and keep him. With heavy non-con and corruption. <3"
> 
> Here you go nonnie - gonna split this up a little while I work on other stuff at the same time - otherwise I just KNOW this is gonna consume all my muse in one go.

_"Nothing is so good that impious and sacrilegious and wicked people cannot contort its proper benefit into evil."_

**_\- Giordano Bruno_ **

 

* * *

 

 

Immortality was a sweet song for any demon; a taste of divinity not normally afforded to the creatures skulking the dark corners of the earth, lest they forget their place as glorified pest control. Convenient villains in stories about purity and the power of faith and love - meant to be killed and conquered or saved from their depravity, but never to triumph. Genji thoroughly enjoyed breaking that particular narrative between his teeth, gnawing on the bones of brave heroes and honorable kings and soft bodied women alike. They would come to him on a search for glory, vengeance or redemption, and he would savour their flesh over the same fire they’d stoked in the night, warming himself by the dying light as he stripped the last of the gristle from bone, relishing the sweetness of victory more than the wet of the meat.

But even he had enough close calls to know it wouldn’t last. Not while he still bled red from the point of a knife.

When the whispers went round he’d scoffed at first. The flesh of a mortal man - incarnate or no - the key to achieving that which was most sought after. Ludicrous. But then came the ripples after; the great Guanyin stirring from her place in the heavens. A goddess interested in the fate of a mortal.

It was enough to drive him from his territory, out into the open, the mask of a pretty young lord keeping any bold heroes at bay. His true face, once. A very _very_ long time ago.

\--------

The emperor was a generous man, offering a simple monk a pair of royal escorts for his journey. Genji almost pitied them as he watched his distant kin tear out their throats. Doomed by a rumor they didn't know existed, blood wasted to dry earth and the thirst of foolish creatures so distracted by their hunger that they failed to notice the point of their attack slipping away between the trees - an almost impressive calm for someone who just witnessed his companions devoured.

Genji followed. He followed for three days and two nights, simply watching - patient, observing, even taking the time to dispatch anyone else who dared stalk after his prey. The meat of his kin was ashen and their blood bitter, but he let it stoke the hunger in his belly. Genji watched. Genji waited.

It was almost amusing how very ill-prepared the poor man was for his momentous undertaking. These woods were no easy trek for even experienced men. Genji had caught whiff of several demons on his way here - none as powerful as he, much to his smug pleasure - but certainly powerful enough to make a meal of an unwary wanderer. Especially one so naive as this one. Once, just once, he let one of the more pathetic creatures get close; its warty face hidden with the leathery skin of mortal age, croaking voice excused as being parched, begging for water from a kind traveller, nevermind that a stolen flask still hung from its waist, enough of a giveaway that anyone with an idea of how demons operated would have picked up the ruse at once.

But the monk simply stretched out his own flask, face open and smiling, kindness in his eyes bright like a star. Were it not for Genji's scent, uncloaked at the right moment - powerful and oppressive to lesser beings - the man would have been lost in a single stretch of a wide, gaping maw. As it was, the demon simply bowed low, apologised, and fled, leaving the monk confused, but no more wary than before. It both irritated Genji and pleased him.

He'd never been presented with such an easy meal.

Now all he needed was the right opportunity.

\--------

The opportunity came on the third day, divine intervention, ironically, serving as his cue to act. Guanyin had made her favor known, and this was enough of a sign in itself for his suspicions to be confirmed. Even  _if_ the rumours turned out false, he would at least have the satisfaction of taking one of the gods' playthings away from them.

Cloaking oneself from the gods was easy when you were an undesirable; no one ever thinks to keep tabs on the rats scuttling in the gutter. Hiding a man of faith was another thing entirely. Stealing him from out of the gods' sight without alarming him- well... Genji had always been one for a challenge. The magic was woven into a pomegranate - a pinch of his shadow in every seed, made sweet with the bloody promise of youth, an unfortunate farmer's son whose body would never be found, his bones ground to dust and sown into the spell under whispered oaths. When it was done, he held it tight in hand, squeezing. It was smooth, firm, the sides flat. Heavy in his hand. Ripe with purpose.

He squeezed again, grinning wide, teeth curling out from his lips in the smile of the wicked; shrinking, shrinking until they were flat and free from the sweet stain of red, till his eyes took on the colour of dry bark and his skin smoothened into pale sand.

It would serve its purpose well.


End file.
